Moments in Time
by njbrennan
Summary: A collection of ficlets and drabbles that will show Edith and Anthony in a variety of settings, scenarios, and time periods. Recommendations and prompts are welcomed! All characters belong to Fellowes, although we all treat them so much better!
1. Drawings

A/N: Hello! I've decided to create a series of ficlets and drabbles for all of the little Andith scenes that pop in my brain that aren't really enough to form into a full story. This first one appeared on my Tumblr account many moons ago (and the icon photo here was also the companion photo with the story), and so I thought I'd modify it a bit and use it to start it off. I hope to have another one posted soon.

Also, if you have any suggestions for scenes that you'd like to see, I am super willing and eager to write them! Any time period, activity, rating (though maybe cap it at hard T?), or anything else you can think of! Just send me a PM and I'll get to writing :) I'd love to hear your thoughts about this if you can spare the time!

Thanks!

Natalie

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_Scene setting: Modern AU. Anthony hangs up some of his children's drawings in the kitchen while on the phone with Edith._

"Yes, my sweet one, I just picked Lottie and Ada up from ballet and they've brought home loads of drawings from art class today. Just putting some of them up onto the refrigerator as we speak."

"Any of their handsome papa?" Edith teased.

"Just the one that Lottie drew," Anthony chuckled bashfully. "Standing next to her lovely mother in front of our summer cottage in Yorkshire. Your baby bump is quite disproportionate, though no less wonderful, if I may say, and I apparently have nothing but twigs for limbs. Sticks, really."

"Well, you are rather lanky, darling!"

"I'll admit to that. Though, it's rather amazing how such a spindly man ever managed to attract such a beauty."

Edith blushed faintly and she was sure Anthony could hear her smile as she spoke. "Flatterer. But I am going to try and head home soon. I'm almost done editing this article. Maybe another hour or so?"

"Well hurry home, my darling. I am _very_ eager to see you…"

Edith's blush deepened to a dark scarlet. She knew precisely the thing for which her husband was so eager. She was rather eager, as well.

"The article can wait. I'm on my way home now," she blurted out as she fumbled with some papers on her desk and hastily tried to pack up.

Anthony chuckled once again. "I'm glad," he told her. Provocatively, he added, "I'll make sure the children are occupied. Slip in quietly if you can…"

"When have I ever done _anything_ quietly, Anthony?" Edith quipped, this time knowing Anthony would be the one blushing.


	2. Wedding

A/N: Thank you very much for the lovely comments for the previous chapter! And the offer still stands for requesting stories if you're interested :)

This one popped into my head a few months ago and I'm just now getting to it haha. It's definitely a lot longer than "ficlet" status, but who can argue with more Andith?! It's a Modern AU in which Edith and Anthony meet at Mary and Matthew's wedding, but we'll see a few other DA characters pop by, too.

I hope you enjoy it! I'd love to hear from you about it :D

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Chiffon ribbons everywhere, centerpieces exploding with calla lilies and babies breath, and one rather testy bride: this was the wedding of Mary and Matthew Crawley and Edith was miserable.

After enduring weeks of wedding preparations, traveling to and from Yorkshire for fittings and rehearsals at her mother's behest and after one painfully long ceremony, Edith was now relegated to recording the video guest book, the curse of the spinster daughter. Mary had gotten the idea a few weeks ago after watching yet another wedding-themed competition show and, perhaps as a form of torture to be inflicted on her younger sister, the bride decided that dateless Edith would have nothing better to do during her wedding than to visit the guests and record their greetings and well-wishes.

It was punishment indeed for Edith Crawley.

Not only did the London journalist fail to find an adequate date before the wedding, but now she had to spend the entire night being Mary's errand girl. It was humiliating, running from table to table, asking the same question over and over again.

_Care to say anything to the bride and groom before they depart on their honeymoon?_

Worse yet was when she stumbled upon a table of familiar faces. She couldn't very well hide her shame in front of them, could she?

"What, like a greeting or something?" Thomas Barrow sneered. He leaned back in his chair and took a long sip from his gin and tonic, compliments of the open bar, which was always standard at every Crawley gathering. Smoothly, he placed his arm around his date, Daisy Robinson, one of his co-workers at the Grantham Foundation, the charitable wing of the Crawley fortune. All for show, Edith thought as she caught Thomas's eye wander around for potential man candy.

"Yes, like a greeting," Edith explained as she fidgeted in her black pumps and dangled the camcorder in her hand. "Matthew and Mary are doing a virtual guest book; something Mary saw on _Four Weddings_ or some nonsense like that."

"I'm not doing something so stupid," Thomas scoffed.

"Oh, come on, Thomas! It'll be fun. And _so_ romantic!" Daisy slurred as she rubbed her hand on his chest, having had a few too many glasses of the house wine. Poor Daisy…so blind to the obvious, Edith mused.

"You can do it, but I certainly won't!" he huffed as he pulled his arm away and crossed it with the other.

"Fine, Thomas, I'll do it all on my own. How do I look, Edie?" Daisy implored.

Drunk and barking up the wrong tree, Edith thought to herself amusingly. Instead, she replied, "You look fine! Just say something jolly to the happy couple." She tried desperately hard not to convey any of the bitterness she felt for this task, but feared she had come up short.

Oblivious to Edith's dissatisfaction, Daisy hiccupped and said, "Is it recording? Anyway, hello, Mary and Matthew! I just wanted to say how glad I am that you've finally tied the knot. I hope you have a—_hiccup _—lovely honeymoon…lots of romance and shagging! Oh, shit…did I just say 'shagging?'"

"It's fine, I'll edit it out," Edith reassured her, although upon seeing how crimson and embarrassed the young woman became, she wasn't sure if she would. It was awfully hilarious to see her family friends and co-workers in such a state. "Thomas? Anything?"

"Ahh, nice open bar," he murmured as he caught a glimpse of Lord Grantham's new assistant, Jimmy, near the D.J. booth. "If you'll excuse me." Thomas promptly pushed his chair away, smoothed down his tie, and nearly sprinted across the dance floor, leaving Daisy confused and Edith attempting to stifle a giggle.

"Thanks, Daisy. I should probably get around to taping the other guests or Mary will have my head," Edith told the young woman, who was too busy glaring at Jimmy to notice Edith's departure.

She moseyed around the high-end banquet hall, a large monstrosity of a venue, complete with a massive dance floor surrounded by round dining tables and a table overflowing with gifts and the most ornate wedding cake Edith had ever seen. Nothing less for Lord Grantham's favorite daughter, of course. Hundreds of guests packed the place, many of whom, Edith had never met: distant American relatives from her mother's side, old university friends of the bride and groom, Papa's stuffy business colleagues.

Nary a familiar face and it made Edith uncomfortable.

Wandering through the dinner tables, the young writer felt like she had recorded enough to please Mary and had earned herself a glass of champagne. She approached the bar and the barman poured a flute for her, which she downed in record time. Just as she was enjoying a moment of peace in the madness of her sister's wedding, Edith heard a voice hiss behind her ear.

"What do you think you're doing?" Mary Crawley accosted. The bride was dressed in a stunning, slimming wedding dress, silk all the way around with beads sewn into the bodice and the cap sleeves. It was the perfect dress for Bridezilla.

"I'm taking a break, Mary, and enjoying a drink," Edith explained coolly, trying her best to stay calm, just as her mother had warned her incessantly before today. "I've already visited about fifty people and recorded their greetings."

"Fifty?" Mary exclaimed, horrified. "Edith, I know that this may be too difficult for you, but there are over three hundred people here and I'd like to have a tape of more than fifteen percent! Let me guess, you've only visited people you know? Like Clarkson and Isobel or Granny?"

"Not just them! There have been others," she countered, suddenly feeling very small.

"Goodness, Edith, try not to be your mousy self for once tonight. Go record some of Matthew's friends or Papa's business chums, hmm? Make yourself useful!" Mary groaned before turning on her heel and taking off to go harass her new husband about some other disaster that had surely occurred during the reception.

Edith caught a sympathetic glance from the barman, who refilled her champagne flute without another word. "Thanks," she murmured before slumping and venturing back into the wild.

The next hour was spent doing her duty. Edith stopped by tables of non-familiars, business chums and university friends just as Mary had so kindly asked. She recorded others as well: expecting parents Sybil and Tom, the former being too pregnant to do much of anything and the latter being too enamored with her state to leave her side; Anna and John Bates, work-friends of her parents, who managed to sneak away from their small army of children to enjoy a night out; William Mason, who gave perhaps the most distracted recording of the night as his gaze and attention kept shifting to Daisy, who was attempting to flirt with Thomas by the bar.

Edith was getting thoroughly fed up with all of it and as the night wore on, her feet grew wearier and the guests grew drunker. So when the D.J. encouraged the guests to head over to the dance floor for the bouquet and garter toss, Edith took the opportunity to sit down at an empty table and rest her aching feet.

"I should never have worn such ridiculous shoes," Edith mumbled to herself as she pulled her black pumps off and massaged her panty-hoed toes. Slumping back into her chair, she watched as the crowd gathered around her sister and new brother-in-law, cheering them on, whooping and hollering. It wasn't as though Edith felt any sort of hatred or contempt for her sister; it was just that the young woman so often felt left out from the goings-on of life. Her sisters, beautiful and tall and raven-haired, had always earned the attention of their parents and of nearly every man who met them, always seemed so poised and put together…so unlike Edith in nearly every respect.

For once, she thought, it would be nice if something like that would come my way. A heavy sigh escaped her as she continued to look on at the wedded bliss of her sister as her groom emerged from underneath her dress with a garter in his mouth.

"Excuse me?" came a gentle voice behind her. "May I?"

Edith turned around and immediately felt her body tense up in the most fabulous way. A tall, blond man, with his hand resting tentatively on the back of the seat next to her, flashed a lopsided grin her way and once Edith nodded her approval, sat down. He was deliciously handsome, dressed in a well-cut navy suit and a purple polka dot tie, and in spite of his lopsided smile, he had a confidence about him that was magnetic.

They were both quiet for a moment before the man gestured toward the crowd gathered on the dance floor. "Terribly silly tradition, isn't it? Women clobbering for a bouquet, men shoving each other for an undergarment of a now-married woman?"

"Hmm?" Edith mumbled, feeling too distracted by a man making conversation with her to pay attention to the actual words he spoke. "Sorry?"

"Oh, never mind. I'm just a grumpy old man…pay me no mind," he chuckled goodheartedly. "I, um, hope I'm not intruding or anything."

"Intruding? No, absolutely not," Edith told him, hoping she had used too much enthusiasm in doing so. Then, picking up the place card in front of her, she added, "But it looks as though we're both intruding on…Anthony Strallan's seat. Though, he seems to be MIA at the moment…not to mention, he left his chicken dinner almost untouched, which will probably irk my sister to no end."

"Yes, well it was a bit dry for my taste," he said flatly, but with a high degree of veiled cheek. "I'm Anthony Strallan, by the way. And you are?"

Edith felt her skin burn all over, spreading from her face down to her chest. "Embarrassed," she mumbled, kicking herself for yet another social faux pas. "E-Edith Crawley, as well."

He laughed at this and offered his hand, which Edith reluctantly took. "Not to worry. I'm just an old codger who likes to tease unsuspecting, beautiful women. Anyway, it's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Crawley. I presume you're a sister of the bride?"

"Yes, I am. Mary's younger sister and dutiful videographer," Edith grumbled as she held up the camcorder. "Virtual guest book."

"Ah, I see," Anthony nodded. "Well, aren't you going to ask me for a word to offer to the happy couple?"

"Oh, yes, of course I can!" she exclaimed, fumbling with the camera soon after. "Okay, it's recording."

The blond man straightened his tie and cleared his throat before proceeding. "Robert, dear chap, I never thought when I met you on the crew team at Cambridge all those years ago that you would ever procreate such beautiful daughters. But you have been blessed beyond measure, an envy of many men. To the happy couple, may you have many years of wedded bliss ahead of you, many joys and every happiness. I wish you nothing but the best."

He paused for a moment and then asked nervously, "How was that? Did I do all right?"

"Brilliant! The best all night," Edith assured him, his nerves evaporating as her smile widened. Anthony really did have the most handsome blue eyes, she noticed. "I didn't know that you went to school with Papa."

"Yes, well, it was many, _many_ years ago and it was rather difficult to keep in touch once I moved to London," he explained as he took a sip of his champagne.

"You live in London? I do, as well…just moved for work there actually."

"And what sort of work do you do? You're a Crawley, so…probably law or politics?"

Edith laughed at the thought. "Heavens no! I just started working at _The Sketch_ as a columnist."

"A columnist?" he repeated. "That's fascinating…much more so than a lawyer or a politician."

The crimson blush that had started to fade returned with a vengeance. "It can be, often enough. And what's your profession?"

"Barrister," he said with a quick glance in her direction. "Wig and all. It's very glamorous."

Edith and Anthony were silent for a moment before they both burst out in laughter at his feeble attempt at a joke. But as their laughter dissipated and their gaze really settled on the other, a different mood took hold of them.

Anthony, once confident and sure of himself, felt rather nervous, rather like a schoolboy alone with a girl for the first time, mesmerized by the way this young woman bit her lip and looked away when she laughed, by the way her dark gaze penetrated his. Edith, too, felt nerves grip her body, her lower back perspiring slightly at the mere presence of this handsome stranger sitting so close to her, flirting with her, hypnotizing her with his sapphire eyes.

He opened his mouth to say something, hoping his voice wouldn't croak as he felt it would. But before the words could come out, Edith's eyes widened and she looked startled.

"Oh, shit! Mary's coming! Quick, pretend like I'm taping you again," she whispered frantically as she grabbed the camcorder and aimed it at Anthony, who jolted at the suddenness of the turn of events.

Flustered, he tried to come up with something quickly, desperately trying to remember what he had said moments ago. "I-I um, hope Mary and Matthew have…a nice life. Oh, I mean, congrats on the marriage. May you be blessed with…um…lots of children and uh, a big house and…err, a nice wedding night?"

Mary, who passed by Edith with something resembling a death stare, was now thankfully occupied at the other end of the banquet hall, entertaining some partners from her law firm.

"She's gone," Edith sighed with relief. "Thank you for that, really. She's been hounding on me to record as many people as I can. It's her way of exacting torture on the family spinster who couldn't find a date to her own sister's wedding."

Staring over at Mary, feeling her icy presence even from across the hall, Anthony absentmindedly mumbled, "Yes, weddings can be reminders of one's loneliness, can't they?"

Edith forced a smile, but felt crushed on the inside. Yet another uninterested man taking pity on the pathetic spinster!

But when Anthony turned his attention back to Edith, he suddenly realized what he had said. "Sorry! I don't know why I said that. I mean…I'm here on my own, too."

"Oh?" was all she could muster.

"Yes, it's true. I'm rather hopeless when it comes to women, in fact, though that's probably deathly obvious now," he confessed, hoping Edith had forgiven him for his mishap.

"I'm the same way with men," Edith offered, still finding it hard to believe that she was speaking so openly to a complete stranger, albeit an old friend of Papa's.

"Care to be hopeless together?" he asked.

"What?"

"I-I mean, um, would you care for a dance?" Anthony mumbled. He was certainly flustered by this woman; _that_ he wouldn't doubt.

"I'd love to," Edith replied with a blush, causing Anthony to thank a celestial deity for her acceptance. Like a gentleman he pulled her seat out and offered her his left hand. Edith took it and hand-in-hand, they slowly weaved around the tables and guests towards the dance floor.

Edith was a bit apprehensive at how she had abandoned her video-duty, but once she felt Anthony's hand on the small of her back and inhaled the crisp smell of his soapy scent, all worries disappeared in an instant.

The music began and they swayed. The song was some Latin jazz tune, neither fast nor slow, and soon, many couples filled the dance floor. Anthony led her around, gently rocking his body to the beat, his strong hold on her back encouraging her to do the same. Edith's black dressed swished around her knees, her feminine form showcased by the tall, sturdy frame of Anthony's.

Perhaps it was the champagne she had downed so quickly not long ago or perhaps it something else entirely, but something prompted Edith to migrate her hand from just above Anthony's elbow to his neck, pulling him even closer to her than he already was. For some reason, unlike her experience with most men, she wanted him close; she felt safe with him near her and strange as it was, Edith felt more comfortable than she ever had before, even with this stranger twice her age. As her grasp tightened, Anthony inhaled deeply at the movement, but said nothing.

Unbeknownst to Edith, Anthony's mind was reeling. This was all very dangerous, dancing with the younger daughter of an old friend. Certainly Robert Crawley hadn't invited him to the wedding to hit on one of his children! But Edith…she was so beautiful and warm and interesting. He hadn't known her very long at all, under half an hour, maybe a little more; but why did it feel like he did? It was like they had clicked and it had been instantaneous and rare and real.

This was very dangerous, indeed.

Edith and Anthony said nothing to each other for the remainder of the song, allowing their bodies, instead, to do the talking that their mouths wouldn't or couldn't: gentle tugs to pull the other closer, a provocative thumb that rubbed circles into the lower back of one and the shoulder of the other, shy glances up and down and all around.

Before they knew it, the Latin jazz song had ended. It was only when they pulled apart that either noticed how close they were to one another, that their bodies had practically been flush up against each other.

"I…uh, uh, I need some air," Anthony said as the next song started up.

"Me too," Edith replied, leaving the dance floor before he had a chance to.

Having this sweet, young thing accompany him was _not_ what he had in mind; Anthony needed a moment to collect himself, to clear his thoughts from the images and sounds that had trespassed into his mind when Edith had danced with him. Having her so near would be too hard to resist.

But Anthony followed after her anyway until she led him to a magnificent stone patio on the edge of the banquet hall. It overlooked the gardens and an enchanting fountain, illuminated by twinkling lights. With the chatter of the reception distant, Edith leaned over the rail, breathing in the night air, a serene look on her face.

'Stunning' was the only word Anthony could think of, not only the scenery, but the company as well. Reverently, he approached the rail and leaned up against it, too. "It's a beautiful night for a wedding, isn't it?"

They both looked up, noticing how starry the night sky was, how one could see every constellation and distant planet.

"I never get to see the sky like this, not in London," Edith told him, leaning further into him so that their arms were brushed up against each other.

"Neither do I. Sometimes, one has to go to the country to see real beauty," he whispered, hoping his meaning would not be lost on her.

Edith turned to him, looking into his eyes curiously.

"I don't just mean the sky," he added for clarification, feeling sure that he _wanted _her to know what he meant.

Her face softened. "You don't?"

"No, I don't. I know it's terribly forward of me to ask, especially after knowing you for so little time, but Edith, when we return to London, would you care if I took you out? Like, on a date, a proper date? With real dinner and wine, or a movie and popcorn and candy if that's what you'd prefer. I don't mind, so long as I get to spend more time with you."

"I'm sorry, but did you just ask me out?" Edith asked in disbelief.

Suddenly, Anthony felt like a ridiculous fool. What on earth was he thinking, asking out this young woman on a date? As if someone like Edith Crawley would ever want to date someone like him. "I am terribly sorry, Edith. Forget I ever mentioned it," he mumbled, turning away from her.

As he began to retreat back into the reception, Anthony felt a hand tug at his elbow, altering his course and turning him around. Soon, a hand wasn't all he felt as a pair of warm lips landed softly on his cheek.

"I would love to go on a date with you, Anthony Strallan. I was just surprised, that's all. I don't often have much luck with men and even fewer date offers," Edith explained as she lowered herself from her tiptoes.

"That is a great travesty, Edith," Anthony told her sincerely. He noticed that his arms had instinctively reached for hers when she kissed his cheek and that they were still there, holding her closely. Rubbing her forearms with gentility, Anthony placed his own lips onto Edith's cheek, letting his mouth linger longer than she had, a foretaste of what was someday to come.

Grabbing her hand, Anthony kissed that, too, and led Edith back into the reception where they walked hand-in-hand. There, they resumed her video guest book duties, going from table to table together, laughing and giggling at the absurdity of Mary's many demands.

The rest of the night passed wonderfully for the two, as they shared a few more dances and drinks and pecks to the cheek, the promise of more looming so very near, and for the first time in a long time, both Edith and Anthony were glad that they had arrived dateless to a wedding.

So very glad indeed.


	3. Ruined

A/N: So, as I had a little time today, I thought I'd give a-tardis-at-downton's July Fanfiction Bonanza challenge a try. I won't have time to do all of these, but I'll give it a shot to do a good number of them when time allows. Although, this has turned out to be way longer than the recommended 300-500 words. Sorry, not sorry ;) I hope you like this one!

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_July 7: Ruined_

The scotch swirled in the glass, swishing, spilling over onto its master's good hand, and dripping down his wrist and onto the newspaper. The amber liquid quickly seeped into the fibers of the paper, blotting the ink and smudging the announcement.

Sir Anthony Strallan's eyes burned and he blinked furiously to keep the tears at bay. He couldn't bear to let the other members of his club catch a glimpse of a once proud and honorable man weeping. Looking around, watching the others laughing, smoking cigars, carrying on with their comfortable lives, Anthony set his glass of scotch onto the table and in a hastened movement, he threw the newspaper into the roaring fire.

He didn't even look as its words burned into ash.

_Lord and Lady Grantham of Yorkshire proudly announce the marriage of their daughter,_

_Lady Edith Josephine Crawley,_

_to _The London Sketch _Editor, Mister Michael Frederick Gregson._

_Ceremony to be held at Downton Abbey in September. _

Stumbling into his room, Anthony yanked at his tie until his neck was free of it and collapsed onto the bed. Sobbing uncontrollably, he curled into the bed and pulled a pillow up to his chest. _Edith is getting married_. The words played in his mind again and again. She would be someone else's wife, she would wake up to that man each morning and make love to him each night, she would bear his children…and she wouldn't think of Anthony again.

The tears relented and Anthony laughed sardonically at the irony of it all. _He_ had been the one to leave her, to set her free to do just this: find a better man. And whoever this Gregson fellow was, the baronet only prayed that he was the man Anthony could not be for Edith.

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Hours later, still intoxicated from the scotch and still in an emotional haze, Anthony had made up his mind to speak to Edith one last time, to see her once more before she was lost to him forever. Had he been sober, such a notion would be out of the question, completely preposterous and not worth a second thought.

But blinded by love and fueled by Dutch courage, Anthony walked the three miles to the offices of _The Sketch_. He didn't know where she was living in London, be it Grantham House or her aunt's, but he knew for certain that she worked for this newspaper and that eventually, hopefully, she'd come out of its art deco doors and back into his life.

It was still somewhat early, not quite afternoon, but not yet nighttime. Anthony posted himself on a bench in clear view of the front entrance, his blue eyes never leaving it.

But as darkness replaced light, and sobriety replaced drunkenness, the baronet grew embarrassed by his rash decision practically to stalk his former fiancée. And when raindrops began to fall from the sky, Anthony accepted his defeat and stood to return to his club for the night.

The rain beat down on him, soaking him through as he meandered along the plaza. He noticed that the streets of London were nearly empty, except for a black taxicab that had pulled up just in front of him. Anthony thought it might be a merciful cabbie offering a ride to a downtrodden stranger, but instead, an umbrella emerged, and then a woman, who started to run off, holding a large envelope close to her breast and shielding it from the rain.

With the umbrella blocking her view, the woman didn't even see Anthony, but he recognized her feminine form, her delicate copper curls, her smooth porcelain skin, and he did so in a single instant.

"Lady Edith?" he mumbled in disbelief, the noise of the rain almost drowning out his voice.

The woman stopped dead in her tracks at the sound of Anthony's voice, at his particular low timbre and accent. She turned around, and slowly, her dark eyes crept up to meet his. The former lovers stared at each other for the longest moment, alone for the first time since their wedding.

Edith noticed that Anthony had lost even more weight, even more than when he returned from the war, that he looked haunted and plagued, that his once bright blue eyes seemed dimmed and weary. And as she inspected him in that suspended moment, Anthony regarded her as well, soaking up every fine detail of her glorious form. But he noticed that, despite her beauty, she seemed troubled by something, her eyes seemed defeated by something. No doubt it was his reappearance in her life, the resurgence of the trauma he had once caused; that would explain it.

"What are you doing here?" Edith asked him as she clutched the file closer to her chest.

"I-I," Anthony stuttered. He hadn't really thought of what to say to her on the off chance that they did meet again. "I saw your wedding announcement in the _Times_. I wanted to offer my…congratulations." The word was hard to say, and it pained him greatly to do so.

"Did you? Well, thank you for stopping by to congratulate me. But I must go; I have to deliver this article before 7:00," she curtly replied before turning on her heel to depart.

Was this it? Was it over already? Three years of dreaming about a chance to apologize, to explain himself, to beg for her forgiveness and it was over in a matter of moments? Anthony couldn't let it end like this.

"Wait!" he called out, running after her. "Lady Edith, please wait!"

Miracle of miracles, Edith stopped and faced him.

Perhaps some remnants of Dutch courage lingered, or perhaps Anthony realized that this might be his last chance to tell Edith all that he felt, but he decided that he must be forthright with her. He wiped his eyes and pushed away his wet blond hair before addressing her.

"Edith, I am so sorry for what I did. Not a day goes by when I don't wish that I could take it all back, that I could stay at the altar and make you my wife, that you and I would be many years happily married with many more to look forward to. I can rest easier knowing that you have found happiness with someone else, because I wouldn't ever want you to be miserable or lonely, but I can't help but envy the man. I hope he knows how wonderful you are, how blessed he is to call you his."

No words were spoken for a long time. All that existed in those moments were the two of them and the heavy pitter-patter of rain all around them.

But finally, Edith spoke. "I have thought about what I would say to you if I ever saw you again, how I would scream and yell and possibly slap you for leaving me in front of all of those people, for abandoning the life I wanted with you. But I can't even summon the words, Anthony.

"I loved you so much, and at times I think I still do. But it's too late. I am engaged to Michael and we'll be married in a month's time. It's just that…that…"

Edith couldn't continue; she broke down into sobs, dropped the umbrella, and instinctively burrowed her face into Anthony's chest. Hesitantly, the baronet wrapped his good arm around her, pulling her closer to his wet body as she became drenched with him.

"What is it, Edie?" he whispered gently. "You should be happy that you're getting married to a man who loves you." He forced the words out of himself, hoping they might offer some comfort to the woman he loved, but he felt sickened by the thought.

She looked up at him, raindrops running down her face, blending in with her salty tears to the point that he couldn't tell which was which. "I'm pregnant," she told him as she hastily glanced away. Her confession was one she didn't like voicing aloud. "It's a marriage of convenience. Michael was married and we had an affair because he couldn't leave his wife. She's mentally insane, making divorce impossible. But then I became pregnant, and when my parents found out, Papa pulled some strings and expedited Michael's divorce. He and Mama are trying to throw this wedding together in just a few weeks to make it appear as though the baby is legitimate.

"But Michael has been distant ever since he and Papa sorted all of this out, as though once the reality of a marriage to me and a baby on the way sunk in, he ceased to love me. I fear that he enjoyed our affair when it was still exciting and new, but now that there are consequences, he wants little to do with me. Part of me thinks that the only reason he is going through with the wedding is Papa's doing, like he's threatening Michael with ruin if he doesn't marry me…"

Anthony's heart sank. He had no idea just how much his actions had ruined everything. Tears of his own began to fall from his eyes.

"Oh, Edie, I am so sorry," he murmured. He didn't deserve her pardon even if she offered it. "If I had known…"

She shook her head. "This is not your fault; you couldn't have foreseen this."

"But I want to help you if I can…"

Edith began to pull away from him. "How? How could you possibly help me?"

The words came from Anthony's heart before his mind could stop them. "Marry me instead."

She stared at him curiously, sizing up his offer, a full foot between them both now. "Why? What on earth would you get from helping me? From marrying me and taking my bastard child as your own?"

Anthony attempted to close the distance between them. "Because I would get to see you everyday, talk with you, grow old with you. You don't know how much I have missed our talks, your wit and your charm. And I'd get to watch your little one grow up. My title dies with me, as it is, so I see no harm in passing it to your child if he happens to be a boy.

"I'd give you an allowance and you could stay in any of my rooms or residences here in London or in Yorkshire, or anywhere else you'd want to live. I hope you'd continue your writing (you really are quite good), or any other occupation you so desire to practice. And…and if you want to continue a relationship with…ah, Gregson…or anyone else, that would be entirely up to you. Think of me as a friendly flatmate…"

Emotions boiled over in the young woman. He was offering her so much, but not entirely what she wanted. "I don't want to be just a flatmate, Anthony," she murmured, almost ashamed for admitting it.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Do you love me?" Edith implored.

"What? I mean…what do you…"

"_Do you love me?_"

Anthony knew that this was the last pivotal moment he'd get with Edith Crawley. He had to be honest as if his life depended upon it.

"Yes," he told her, the truth exhaling from his body in a contented sigh. "I love you, Edith. I never stopped loving you, not since that day we went for our first drive. I've made more mistakes than anyone should make in a lifetime, but I'd count myself the luckiest man in the world if you'd have me."

Edith's dark eyes had life in them once again, and in a single motion, she threw her arms around Anthony's neck and pressed her lips against his. He was startled, no doubt, by this first kiss of theirs. But after a moment's adjustment, he tightened his hold on her, pulling her all the way against him, and returning her kiss with fervor.

Her lips tasted like rain and salt, and devoured them.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Lady Edith Crawley and Sir Anthony Strallan were married three days later. Robert and Cora were shocked and mildly horrified to find Anthony, hand in hand with their daughter after their elopement, sitting in the drawing room of Downton. Robert had choice words for the baronet, but once Edith appealed to reason and to the earl's heart, he simmered down. But it would take some time, years in fact, for Robert to accept what had transpired.

His mood, however, did not dampen the newlyweds' happiness. Seven months after their surprise wedding, an heiress was born. Lady Eloise Cora Strallan was a bubbling baby girl, the radiant image of her mother, with the same curly hair and identical dark eyes. Anthony, needless to say, fell in love with her on the spot.

Eloise was joined a year later by a brother, Henry Anthony, a miniature replica of their papa, and two years after that, a sister, Ada Penelope, a blend of both of her parents.

Many years later, as the five Strallans snuggled together on the same sofa in front of the fireplace at Locksley, Henry resting against his mother, while Eloise and Ada were burrowed under each of Anthony's arms, Edith thought back to that rainy night when everything changed.

She tried to imagine how her life would have proceeded had Anthony not turned up that evening, apologizing and proposing to her in the rain. She would have had a loveless marriage with Michael, the memories of their once passionate affair not enough to sustain them through decades of matrimony. She wouldn't have known the depths of emotion or joy that came from loving and being loved by a good man. Nor would she have known the sense of fulfillment she gained by watching Anthony with their children, how he immediately and unquestioningly accepted Eloise as his own and adored each new little one with the same zeal. Had he not waited for her outside of her office, she wouldn't have Henry or Ada, and she wouldn't have Anthony.

It was rather miraculous, she pondered by the fire with her family so close, how such happiness could spring from such disaster, how such life could come forth from such ruin.


End file.
